


Uncertain

by lykxxn



Series: This Wild Abyss [2]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Gen, Healing, London, London Underground, Magic Realism, Mind Control, Telekinesis, Time Shenanigans, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-21 23:07:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14924576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lykxxn/pseuds/lykxxn
Summary: ‘God knows how I’m supposed to explain this,’ added Aubrey, glaring at the younger brunette. ‘The windows are bust. It looks like a robbery.’‘Looks worse than that,’ said Chloe from her position on a table, next to two broken, upturned chairs and an unconscious, coffee-stained businessman. ‘Looks like you killed everyone.’Beca has a hard time keeping her powers in check.





	1. Chapter 1

‘I really thought you’d agreed to stop this.’

Beca pursed her lips, taking a final, ashamed glance across the cafe. 

‘God knows how I’m supposed to explain this,’ added Aubrey, glaring at the younger brunette. ‘The windows are bust. It looks like a  _ robbery _ .’

‘Looks worse than that,’ said Chloe from her position on a table, next to two broken, upturned chairs and an unconscious, coffee-stained businessman. ‘Looks like you killed everyone.’ She shrunk back at the sharp look she’d been thrown. ‘Sorry.’

‘Somehow I have to alter  _ everyone’s  _ memory, including the people who walked past,  _ and  _ the fucking police. All I wanted was a latte.’ Aubrey placed her hands firmly on Beca’s shoulders and moved her to the left, surveying the damage. Most of the tables had either been broken or upturned, with many chairs in the same state; the customers and staff were mostly unconscious and those who had been drinking were covered in whatever high-caffeine drink they’d bought. The coffee machine had exploded, and milk was dripping from the ceiling.

‘I didn’t  _ mean  _ to,’ Beca piped up suddenly.

‘I know,’ responded the blonde, exhaustion evident in her voice. ‘Just … let me clean up.’

‘Oh, this is my favourite bit!’ Chloe jumped from the table, grinning reassuringly at Beca.

‘Yeah, well, it’s not mine,’ snarked Aubrey, sighing sharply and resuming her focus on the disaster she’d been forced to witness.

Slowly, the tables turned themselves the correct way, repairing the coffee stains and cracks as they did so. The chairs followed suit, and the ceiling dried itself without much fuss. The glass from the broken coffee machine picked itself up from the floor and connected firmly back where they belonged; all the while Aubrey’s steady, solid hands guided them with smooth, flowing movements. She knew they would obey.

With people, the movements were more cautious, careful. People were spontaneous and unpredictable, and to underestimate their ability to resist would prove dangerous.

The businessman sat up on the floor as the coffee stains lifted from his jacket. The baristas almost came to, and the shards of china that they had lain in relaxed; their hands healed bit by bit. Aubrey left four broken mugs on the floor, a deep crack beneath the spot behind the counter where they had once sat on the shelf.

‘The ground trembled,’ she spoke loudly to them. ‘You can’t remember what happened. You think it might’ve been a gas leak.’

‘We need to get out of here, Bree,’ murmured Beca, her hand reaching urgently for the blonde’s sleeve.

‘I know, little one,’ she responded. ‘Let’s go home.’

‘Will they know it was me?’ she asked timidly.

Aubrey did not answer but instead guided her towards the door. Chloe followed behind.

The atmosphere had suddenly become melancholy.

Time did not start again until they had reached the underground. Flashing her Oyster card at the bored guard, the blonde hurried them down the escalators and onto the first train they could catch. Staring at the Bakerloo line map, Aubrey huffed and glanced at the passengers: four American tourists; a Japanese businessman; a Muslim woman and her two sons; a bald man in shorts and a t-shirt. She glanced at the Americans again. One of them had his earphones dangling around his neck, and another was wearing a cap with the Green Bay Packers logo. 

Tensing, she laid a hand on Chloe’s knee. ‘Get off at Charing Cross,’ she mouthed.

Beca made a noise of confusion at getting off a stop early, but didn’t question it; instead, she trailed sluggishly along behind them.

‘She’s overwhelmed and probably exhausted,’ hissed Chloe. ‘If we don’t get back soon, we’ll have a repeat of what happened at the cafe. Why did we get off?’

‘Elite Order on the tube,’ explained Aubrey quickly. ‘The Americans. We’ll get the Northern from here.’

‘Get off at Waterloo and take the Jubilee?’ clarified the redhead. ‘And then the Overground?’

‘They can’t catch us, Chloe. Not after what’s just happened.’

‘It’s just a long way ‘round. Why not just change at Embankment like we were going to?’

Aubrey’s breath shook. ‘I can’t risk it, Chlo. Not with Beca.’ Suddenly her head turned. ‘Where  _ is  _ Beca?’ She glanced around wildly, her heart dropping for more than a second, until, with great relief, she spotted the tiny girl sat on a bench, half-asleep.

They approached her and Chloe shook her gently. ‘Come on, firecracker. We need to go.’

‘I’m tired,’ she whined, her face scrunching up, looking at the two through blearily, exhausted eyes.

‘She’s drained, Aubs,’ said Chloe desperately.

‘We need to get her home,’ Aubrey repeated.

‘And what if we can’t? What then?’

Aubrey ran a hand through her hair. Chloe was right. It was going to be almost impossible to get Beca home in this state.

‘Can’t you do your time thing? Get us there quicker, maybe give Becs a bit of leeway?’

‘It’s easier to track us, then. Besides, they weren’t on that train coincidentally. No doubt they knew we were there, so they’ve got one up on us regarding my time freezing.’ She shook her head. ‘Teleportation, I shouldn’t wonder.’

Beca whined lowly from her position on the bench, having leant into Chloe’s shoulder only a few minutes prior. The redhead rubbed her shoulder comfortingly, unsure of what to say.

‘What if we ask someone … tell them she’s sick?’

Aubrey glared at her. ‘Chloe, what’s our number one rule?’

‘Don’t talk to people,’ she responded with a resigned sigh. ‘In case they’re the Elite Order.’ She looked back at Beca, whose face was pale, eyes barely open. ‘We have to do  _ something _ , Aubrey.’

‘If only Stacie was here,’ the blonde sighed wistfully. ‘She could help.’


	2. Chapter 2

Stacie glanced up at the noticeboard above the fireplace, running her eyes across every name.

 

> **Amy: Home**
> 
> **Ashley: Home**
> 
> **Aubrey: Charing Cross Station**
> 
> **Beca: Charing Cross Station - Trouble**
> 
> **Chloe: Charing Cross Station**
> 
> **Cynthia-Rose: Reading**
> 
> **Flo: Fuentes Tapas Bar**
> 
> **Jessica: Home**
> 
> **Lily: Home**
> 
> **Stacie: Home**

Her eyes flashed worriedly upon seeing Beca’s. The noticeboard was useless for telling what was going on, but she knew where she was, and that was enough. Hurrying into the hallway, she grabbed her kit of emergency supplies, as well as a golden compass, and sped off in the direction of the station.

It was easier and quicker to take the underground, and she took the District line to the Embankment, too frantic to sit down and too worried to stand still; with help from the compass, she knew where to get off at Charing Cross and hurried to where Aubrey and Chloe were desperately clouded around the young brunette.

‘Stacie!’ Aubrey’s relieved cry pulled her closer. ‘She … well, I’ll tell you later. But she’s overwhelmed and exhausted.’

‘Alright,’ said Stacie calmly, and the two parted to let her examine Beca. She pulled a syringe from her handbag as well as a sickly, purple vial, and filled the syringe. ‘Okay sweetie,’ she soothed, ‘you have to take this. It’ll make you feel a little less tired.’

Beca dragged a balled fist across her face but reluctantly took the medication. It tasted like grapes and menthol, and she shuddered. Stacie’s smooth, skilled hands lay on her jaw and pressed a little to let the healing power work its way through the younger girl, smiling when she saw her begin to look more awake and the paleness in her face begin to dissipate just a little.

‘Chloe, what are the odds that they’re still looking for us?’ asked Aubrey.

‘Oh, a hundred percent. But there’s only twenty percent chance that they’re going the right way,’ she responded with a smirk.

‘We’re ready to go,’ said Stacie firmly. ‘She’ll need a hot bath and some rest when we get home.’

Aubrey glanced to Beca, who looked falsely alert; a sure sign the medication was setting in. ‘Come on, little one,’ she said softly. She looped one arm around Beca’s waist.

Together, they found more success and made their way home without a hitch. Stacie didn’t hesitate to run a bath for the young girl, and once she was lowered in, Stacie gently removed the medication from her system, holding her steady as the exhaustion set in.

Aggressive rapping on the front door awoke Aubrey from her trance. She started almost immediately, looking for Stacie for instructions on what to do.

‘Answer it,’ she said without looking, ‘or they’ll only continue bothering us. Besides,’ she added brightly, ‘it might be Luke.’

The blonde Londoner stood desperately at the door when Aubrey cautiously opened it, dressed in full policeman’s garb, holding his hand loosely and sorrowfully to his side. He did not ask to come inside, but brushed Aubrey aside and sat down in the living room as she followed, bemused.

‘They sent me to track you down,’ he stated. He looked at her stonily, laying his hat on the arm of the couch.

She shook her head. ‘You should leave them, Luke. They’re just using you, you know.’

‘It’s too late for that,’ he mourned softly. ‘It pays to be a traitor, Aubrey. I’m trying to help you now. Please listen to me.’ He glanced away. ‘They want Beca. When she does this again … yes, _when._ We both know it’s _when_ … when she does this again they’ll want to send her away. They’ll put her in an institution, and you and I both know an institution’s the last place we can let her go.’

Aubrey flinched. ‘What are you saying?’ she asked hoarsely.

‘I’m not saying anything. I’m telling you what I know.’ Luke sighed. ‘If I were you, I’d take off. Go without a word, you and Beca. Not Chloe, not Stacie. I wouldn’t tell a damn soul. I mean,’ he added quickly, ‘there _are_ institutions you could send her to … no, Aubrey. Listen to me; they’re run by people like us. They’re run by Unspeakables. But there are only two in the UK: one in Cornwall, and one on the Isle of Lewis.’

‘I’m not giving up on her,’ Aubrey said squarely. ‘And I’m not giving her to an institution. It would destroy her.’

‘You should consider going somewhere else,’ he advised. ‘Don’t tell me if you do. They’ll use me to find her here or in London. If I find her, they’ll take her away. If I don’t find her, and I can’t find her Trace, they’ll torture me for information.’

She shook her head. ‘You’re their sniffer dog, and you can’t run away because they have a gun pointed at your head. I pity you, Luke, I really do.’

‘I’m trying to help you; I’m trying to help _her_. You know what the institutions are like, Aubrey. You don’t come out unscathed, and that’s if you come out at all.’ He lowered his voice then: ‘Besides, don’t you owe Professor Mitchell at least his daughter’s _life_ for everything he did for you?’ Luke stood up and returned his hat to his head. ‘It’s your decision. But for the love of God, please make the right one, Aubrey.’

Without a word, he left her, alone and confused.


	3. Chapter 3

‘What happened?’ demanded Chloe over the dinner table, where Aubrey was quietly picking at the meal Jessica and Ashley had put together.

‘I’ll tell you now,’ she replied quietly, ‘while Beca’s still asleep. He said the police wanted to take her to an institution if she had another …’ She paused, struggling for the correct word. ‘If she had another meltdown.’

‘What’s so bad about that?’ asked Chloe innocently; Stacie’s eyes narrowed, noticing the paled, somewhat panicked look on Aubrey’s face. ‘They’ll be able to help her, won’t they?’

‘Absolutely not,’ snapped the blonde. ‘The institutions are torture chambers. They’ll  _ destroy  _ her.’

‘What else did Luke say?’ asked Stacie swiftly.

‘Suggested moving. Leaving without a word.’

Stacie and Chloe exchanged worried glances. ‘What, all of us?’ clarified the redhead shakily.

Aubrey shook her head. ‘Just me and Becs. But I couldn’t,’ she added reassuringly. ‘I couldn’t abandon you all. Professor Mitchell trusted me …’

‘You  _ could  _ go,’ Stacie intervened. ‘You and Beca and Chloe could go. I could stay here. Professor Mitchell trusted  _ both of us _ . If I stay and take care of the Bellas here, you won’t be abandoning them; you won’t be abandoning us.’

‘Luke said I owed it to the Professor to care for Beca after he saved my life …’ murmured Aubrey.

Chloe shook her head firmly. ‘He’s guilt-tripping you, Aubs. It’s not his choice to make; it’s not  _ his  _ life or  _ his  _ powers we’re concerned with here.’

‘Yeah,’ said a faded Australian accent; the three turned to face Amy, who had taken a break from eating to listen to their conversation, ‘we won’t be alone if you go. We can take care of ourselves. Besides, I know you’re scared about what might happen to Baby Bella if she ‘splodes something again.’ 

Aubrey flushed; she had forgotten for a minute that she did, indeed, live with a telepath.

‘It’s up to you, though,’ continued the Australian. ‘You’re in charge.’

The blonde gave Stacie a pointed glance, but she shook her head. ‘I’m not in charge,’ she said with a laugh. ‘I might be older, but you’ve been leading us since the Professor died, Aubrey. He trusted you and so do we. Whatever decision you make, we’ll stand by you … even if we respectfully disagree.’

‘Even if Beca  _ disrespectfully  _ disagrees,’ added Chloe with a small grin.

Aubrey sat up a little more confidently at these words of support and reassurance. ‘I just want her to be safe,’ she explained, ‘but you’re all also my priority. And if I’m not in London … I can’t watch over both.’

Stacie nodded understandingly. ‘Which is where I come in, or Flo or Jessica or Ashley. You’re not alone, Aubrey. No matter what happens, you won’t have to do this alone.’

The words consoled her, and she was relieved to find that when she checked up on Beca that night, she was not alone. Stacie hung onto her arm, supporting her just as she was supporting the brunette. The young Bella slept soundly, not disturbed by their entrance or hushed whispers, one hand clasping the duvet, eyes closed and relaxed.

‘You’re doing good,’ Stacie said firmly. ‘He’d be proud of you.’

‘You too.’ Aubrey pursed her lips, making out Stacie’s nose and lips in the dying light. ‘Come to bed with me? I don’t want to be alone tonight.’

The two crept under the covers of Aubrey’s bed, the curtains open as usual, and the streetlight on Chicksand Street flickered, muted orange light seeping into the room.

‘I meant it, you know,’ murmured Stacie. ‘You’re not alone, no matter the decision you make. You’ve got all of us right here. We won’t let you go through this alone, even if you decide you want to take her to America.’

The blond snorted quietly. ‘I don’t think I have the money for that, even  _ with  _ the institution money. I’d only take her somewhere in England. Scotland, if I had to.’ She shuffled further along, cuddling into Stacie’s side. ‘You mean it, though? You’d be there?’

‘I’d come with you if you wanted. We can hold our own, Aubs. Jessica and Ashley basically run this place when I’m working or …’ She grinned coyly, her face illuminated in an orange that mirrored the shade of the setting sun. ‘Or when I’m otherwise incapacitated.’

Aubrey laughed, giving her a nudge beneath the covers. ‘I get it, Stace. No need to tell me any more. But … thank you. I’m not going to decide on anything, not just yet. Maybe lay low for a while, keep Beca calm and happy … introduce the idea slowly …’

‘You’re doing great,’ said Stacie. They moved closer, Stacie’s arm behind Aubrey’s neck, the air heating comfortably. ‘Go to sleep now,’ she said. ‘You’ll need it.’

And she did.


End file.
